


September 27, 1973 :: Elephant in the Bed

by schwertlilie



Series: White Flags [18]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Confessions, M/M, Sharing a Bed, conflicted - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 20:23:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwertlilie/pseuds/schwertlilie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just because it's September, doesn't mean it isn't cold at night. Alfred insists on sharing Matthew's bed, and confesses something that's been a long time coming. Matthew's torn between himself and his people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	September 27, 1973 :: Elephant in the Bed

_September 27, 1973 :: Ottawa, Canada :: in Matthew's bedroom_

Matthew hid his smile in his brother's hair while Alfred fidgeted, tried to pile the blankets up around them.

"Why's it so _cold_ Matt?" he whined, his sleeping clothes dragging slightly against Matthew's own.

"Because it's fall and I haven't turned on the heat yet?"

"Then turn the heat on."

He snorted. "It'll be too warm, then, with the two of us in the bed."

"Your feet are cold." 

"So're yours."

"Asshole."

"Be grateful I'm not making you sleep in the guest bedroom."

"Maybe I should," he muttered into Matthew's collarbone.

"If you like." Really, why was it always so hard for Alfred to settle down and sleep? It didn't seem to matter if they were one hundred or three.

Alfred made a frustrated noise, then huddled closer to his brother. "Matt?"

"Mm?"

"Why don't you tell me what you want?"

He blinked. "I do, Mr. Elephant."

"I don't mean politically. And don't quote your boss at me!"

"What do you mean?"

"You just-" He huffed, brought his head up to face him. "You didn't say anything when I insisted on sleeping with you tonight, and you didn't protest when I said I should leave."

"What's the point?" Alfred stared at him, so Matthew continued. "You're going to do what you want, no matter what I say, so I don't see why I should waste our time arguing."

"That doesn't mean I don't want to know what you're thinking!" He touched Matthew's jaw, almost too intimate. "That I wouldn't change my plans if they made you unhappy."

"The United States of America changes for no country."

"But Alfred F. Jones can." He slid his fingers up, so that he was cupping Matthew's face, and leaned in slowly - so slowly - to press a kiss to Matthew's lips.

Alfred was warm, gentle, too much; Matthew pulled away. 

"Alfred, I-" Why were Alfred's eyes so calm? "Why?"

"Because I want you."

How could he make it sound so simple? "I can't. It's complicated, and our bosses, and why would-"

Alfred shushed him with a finger to his lips. "This isn't about politics, Matt. I mean yeah, the manifest destiny stuff is still around, but the part of me that's just Alfred Jones wants the part of you that's just Matthew Williams."

"And the rest of you?"

He quirked a smile. "And the rest of me isn't arguing."

He took a breath. Let it out. "I can't."

Alfred sighed, untangled himself. "That isn't a yes."

"It isn't a no, either." 

He blinked, expression caught between hope and resignation. "Do you want me to go?"

"Stay," he said, surprising them both.

"All right." Alfred tucked himself back under Matthew's chin, cotton sliding awkwardly against cotton.

"I-" He swallowed, let himself touch Alfred's hair. "The part of me that's Matthew's been curious, sure, but the rest of me doesn't want to be more than friends with the rest of you, not as things are."

"You mean the wars, and the pressure, and your third option."

"Yeah."

Matthew could feel him sigh. "Don't push yourself, babe. If you don't feel it, you don't feel it, and we can go back to how things were. And I'd never jump you without permission, so you don't- What's so funny?"

Matthew stifled his laughter in the crown of Alfred's head. "'Babe'?"

"What about it?"

"You couldn't think of anything better to call me?"

"It's a perfectly acceptable nickname."

"Right up there with 'moron.' You know perfectly well I don't have a vagina."

"Go to sleep, _Babe_. You've gotta be overtired to be over thinking a _nickname_."

"You first, _dork_." And easy as that the tension broke, putting them back on familiar ground. 

Alfred just laughed into his ribs, and pulled him close.


End file.
